


The Branded Man

by theangelandthebees



Category: Supernatural
Genre: At least what I consider a happy ending, Don't worry, F/M, Fantasy, Horses, M/M, The brief death won't last long - they'll be back, There will be a brief death, Western, Witches, but there will be a happy ending, no one dies and stays dead, what am i even doing?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2201217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangelandthebees/pseuds/theangelandthebees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are four things the stallion knows when he's caught.</p><p>1. Humans are vile.</p><p>2. He is not going to submit to such lows as being ridden.</p><p>3. The man with the green eyes brings him apples and doesn't try to ride him.</p><p>4. There is something familiar about the rhythm of the ranch, but he can't understand what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Branded Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first major, multi-chapter work that I plan on completing since I have the entire plot planned out. It may seem kinda weird, but just stick with me. There will be a happy end, just to let you know in advance, or at least, what I consider a happy end. This is also 99% Destiel, but I put the Jessica/Sam in the tags because they will be mentioned in the story for a while. 
> 
> Art is by shusheries.tumblr.com
> 
> The picture and some words are linked to references that I used for the story. It's recommended you take a look to better understand what I was writing about. 
> 
> The story was inspired by this song: The Man Who Would Speak True by Blitzen Trapper - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxBjNrE8ME0

 

There is nothing but dry grass and dirt ahead of him.

 

His hooves pound against the ground, kicking up dirt as he pushes himself to his limit. Sweat is foaming on his shoulders, white against black fur, drenched and even darker than normal.

 

He’s been running for a while now. Most humans would have given up now, but the ones on the horses behind him are relentless. They’ve followed him through every trick he has and every escape plan, leaving the stallion scrambling to find some semblance of an idea to lose them.

 

The plains aren’t the best place, open and reaching to the horizon. Even if he managed to outrun their horses, run them until they dropped behind from exhaustion, they wouldn’t lose sight of the stallion. His black fur would stand out against earth and sky. The only way he’d properly be able to lose them now is if he could run them until it was dark, where his coat color would help him disappear.

 

The sun is beating down too hot for the [stallion](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kKcpGNSss8U) to have hopes of possibly making it past sunset. It’s at least an hour before that comes, and he can’t make it, not with the sweat that rolls down his shoulders. He can see two options, and neither are ones he wants to take. He has no choice, however, and he pushes himself harder. It gives him a small boost, lowering his head and charging forward a few extra feet, a grunt escaping from somewhere deep in his chest.

 

Rather than keep running, he turns, a sharp movement that has the closest horse to him rearing in surprise and almost throwing its rider. Humans. He lets out a cry of challenge, charging into the fray, knocking one horse aside as he reverses the direction, leading them in the way they came.

 

He bucks when one of the horses gets near, the whinnies and human outcries of rage mixing together.

 

He will not go down without a fight.

 

Despite the wheeze his lungs make, almost too tired for him to continue, he forces himself into another gallop. He is unable to look back. If he looked back, he may not be able to force his body to keep moving. As it is, he stumbles slightly and draws in a great gasp of breath that the humans notice. Outcries of rage turn triumphant and he cries another sound of challenge, not yet ready to give in. There is a difference between trying your best and giving up at the last moment, and he is not about to be the difference that shows.

 

The stallion lunges forward, but this time when he stumbles, the humans are ready. He knows this because he feels the rough texture of a rope settling around his neck. It is low, near his shoulders, and for a moment he thinks he may be able to escape. He tugs the best he can, before he rears up, his cry closer to a scream. It is his sounds that turn outraged now, hooves beating at the air. Before his front hooves can even touch the ground, another rope settles around his neck, pulling tight and nearly cutting off his air supply. It is closer to his head, at the junction of his cheek and neck. It causes the stallion to change direction as he touches down, a neigh choked out of his throat as he tries to rear again, the ropes trying to pull him down.

 

The humans have the audacity to rope his front leg. With his ears pinned back, the stallion makes a lunge to snap at one of the humans, but the ropes pull him back last second, choking him again. He can’t set his right foreleg down, as it is roped just above the hoof and is being pulled off the ground.

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXebamjT4PY)

 

The stallion is wheezing now, but he can’t give in. He tries to take a step forward, but it is too much. His balance wobbles and despite his best attempts to save it, he goes down. The heavy thud is enough to make even the horses the humans ride toss their heads. They look at him like they pity him and the stallion tosses his head, letting out a weak battle cry. He is not something to be pitied. No one had ever caught him before this and he was going to get out of these ropes. Somehow.

 

His head was the last thing to submit, and he finally ends up on his side on the ground, breathing heavily, legs kicking in a vain attempt every few moments. He groans and finally falls still, which causes an uproar in the humans. They whoop and one even tosses its hat. He grunts, but doesn’t try to get up.

 

He is exhausted.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The stallion’s head droops low as the humans lead him on. Their own horses have rested now, gotten water and grass, though they didn’t let the stallion have the same privilege. The sweat has dried and is uncomfortable in his fur, and since this journey has begun, the stallion hasn’t lifted his ears at all. They stay pinned to his skull, hooves dragging with reluctance.

 

When they try to bring the whole group to a trot, the stallion tosses his head and gives small rears. He can’t go much faster than this if they want him to survive wherever they are taking him. Not that he has given in. Certainly, there must be weaknesses in the place they plan to contain him. He will find them and he will get away.

 

If that means bashing in a few skulls, the stallion is not afraid to do that. The stallion digs in his hooves and slowly the whole group comes to a stop. The other horses are whickering nervously and the stallion paws at the ground, digging up some dirt. He rasps a groan, and wavers on his hooves, partly play partly truth. Some concerned sounds come from the humans and he is rewarded by one human getting off its steed.

 

The human takes his canteen and a pot from its pack, pouring its water into the pot. The stallion groans again, but when the human reaches for the rope of his bindings, the stallion rears up, hooves beating at the air, trying to break bones and spill blood.   
  
He whinnied and the human fell back on the ground, vulnerable. It was enough to have the stallion lunging forward, blue eyes rolling and teeth bared. He was pulled back at the last moment and his teeth snapped at empty air as his head was tugged in the opposite direction quite suddenly. He whinnied again, but it was a pained sound and his hooves danced beneath him, kicking up dust.

 

When the stallion finally settled and the humans were all seated on their horses, the stallion shuffled forward and dipped his muzzle into the water, drinking a few large gulps. Before he can finish, the rope is pulled roughly and he stumbles forward, neck straining to try to get a few last sips, giving in finally and walking behind the other horses, leaving the pot behind, half filled with water.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The stallion walks with his head down for most of the time on from there. It isn’t until he hears the shouting and the hoofbeats that he lifts his head. His ears perk loosely, and he whickered a low sound, one that rattled in his chest.

 

He still felt icky from the sweat he had shed from the chase, and now he pins his ears back in annoyance, insects beginning to swarm the newcomer. His tail lashes and he shakes his head as the humans lead him into the large gates, his blue eyes darting around.   
  
He snorts, and the scent of many animals fills his lungs. He drags his hooves, trying to slow their approach towards a fenced in area. He tossed his head again, and his blue eyes rolled as he let out a challenging cry.

  
Eyes turned towards him, watching as the black creature reared up, hooves pawing at the air, slow and weary despite the magnificence of the muscles that bunched under his skin. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love some comments. As this is my first work, I know it is not the best, but I am trying to make something of quality.
> 
> If you have a tumblr and want to track news/fanart/other things about the story the tumblr is here: http://thebrandedman.tumblr.com/


End file.
